If ever we walked on sacred ground, it was on a fresh blanket of snow
in an old Sequoia forest.

.

.

This magnificent experience
is best put into words
by naturalist John Muir.

“A few minutes ago every treewas excited, bowing to the roaring storm,
waving, swirling, tossing their branchesin glorious enthusiasm like worship.But though to the outer earthese trees are now silent,their songs never cease.Every hidden cellis throbbing with music and life,every fiber thrilling like harp strings…”